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“WANT TO TELL ME why I left my bed to visit that asshole in the middle of the night?” Javier asks, slipping inside my car across the street from their house in Hinsdale. I’m all too familiar with this gated community, know people that live here, and as she showed her keycard and the gate unlocked to let her in, I followed.
He’s waiting for an explanation, but at the moment my attention is on their house. All the lights downstairs are on, and I can just make out the form of a man pacing in front of the living room windows.
He looks agitated, waving his hand angrily at something or someone.
“I don’t like these fucks.” Something isn’t right with this family. Their arrival here a few months back made waves, but I let it slide as a favor to a friend. Same friend that he owes.
I’ve been patient while watching the recent boost in cocaine running through the southside, however, the Jameson situation is where I draw the line. Forcing me to make a phone call and change plans.
I’ll pay Thiago the money in exchange for his life.
The oldest son of Marcus Foster is a fuckup. A pompous asshole who thinks he’s invincible, and power should just be given to him.
A mid-level dealer with a death wish.
“Agreed.”
“Was she in the room?” Stretching my neck, I lower the window and spark up another cigarette. The fourth of the night. I’m wound tight, muscles coiling, and nothing seems to calm me. Every cell in my body demands that I break down their door and take her.
Somewhere between the club and her house my thoughts have become clear. The voice inside, that animal I keep under control in front of the world, demands that I save her. Her innocence is titillating, exciting, and also London’s downfall.
Why are they hiding her? That thought is churning within me. Bringing out a side that only the few women in my family ever see: a protector.
Deciding to stay inside the car was a last-minute decision. A hard one.
Tomorrow. But it made the most sense.
I’ll deal my cards then. Twirl will be inside my home, within my protection, and I can control how and when I approach.
Her brother and father are full of envious desires; they’ll be too busy plotting to realize that she’s already met me. That I’ve already taken ownership of the youngest in the family. That they are dead men walking.
Getting her alone won’t be a problem.
“She was.”
“And…” Taking a deep pull of smoke into my lungs, I hold it for a few seconds before exhaling through my nose.
“His demeanor as he stood over her was possessive.” For some reason, I am not surprised by this. I’ve been expecting this confirmation. Fire flows like lava through my veins as more pieces of this puzzle fall into place, and I have no doubt that my London is looking for an escape. To get away from them.
Question is, though, what do they want her for? How does she play into any of this?
Maybe she knows who I am and is… I stop that thought in its tracks. My Twirl is innocent, of that I have no doubt. Reading people comes with this line of work, and that girl is afraid of the world, not looking to dominate it.
There are two reasons why anyone, of their own free will, sells their body for profit. Desperation, or because you like it. You need the money, or get off on the depravity.
May God have mercy on their souls, because I won’t. I want their blood on my hands, and nothing cements that more than seeing London’s tiny figure standing at a small bedroom window upstairs.
The dim lights surround her like a warm halo. She’s so fucking beautiful, and in that moment, I vow to protect her. Kill every single member of her family if they are the cause of her pain.
“What am I missing here?”
“Not now.”
“Are we leaving?”
“Not now,” I grit out, teeth grinding as London wipes her cheeks. She looks sad—pensive, while looking up into the night sky.
“This is about the girl.” Not a question, and I don’t answer. “Something isn’t quite right in that house, Malcolm. The way they tried to keep her hidden, the fear in her expression…”
